


One Bad Day

by Aflyingmonkey



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Blangst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, thoughts of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aflyingmonkey/pseuds/Aflyingmonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine would never ever do that… Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Bad Day

Blaine Anderson was happy. 

Well, sometimes he was happy. He thought he was normal anyways. He had his moments like everybody else. He cried and laughed and went through the motions. Blaine was taught from a very early age that if you ignored the problems they would eventually go away. 

That’s just how things played out in the Anderson home. Ignoring problems, covering them up with plastic smiles and perfected laughs and “Blaine sit up straight we have guests” and dinner parties with other people who ignored their problems. It was easier to say “Yes, the family is just fine, actually have you heard about our new associates-“ and to list the Anderson accomplishments to simply state about how fake it all actually was. 

His brother, Cooper, never helped with his immature, childish, playful behavior. Cooper was always willing to offer advice to Blane that was a backhanded compliment at best and a blow to his self-esteem at worst. He meant well, Blaine’s mother would say and Blaine would listen like the good son he was. Cooper was kinda right anyways, he wasn’t perfect and he should work on his dance steps more. The procedure is to smile and nod, to take his advice to heart even though it hurt.

His father was an expert at ignoring problems. He ignored the tension between him and his son. He ignored Blaine’s love for music. He ignored Blaine being gay. Sometimes he even ignored Blaine all together. It was just easier that way. When Blaine came out, it was long hours spent in the office and even longer hours spent in the study at home. Sometimes it was manly camping and manly football. Blaine hated camping, but his father never asked so what did that really matter in the long run. 

It was more than Blaine could have asked for. So Blaine just shoved those feelings down to avoid an argument. Confrontation wasn't his strong suit. Just smile and nod and everything is okay.

His mother smiled and nodded and drank her way to believing everything is okay.

So everybody, including Blaine, assumed he was happy.

He was taught that being happy means smiling, agreeing, saying things are fine when his stomach is churning. 

He was finally in New York he should be happy. He was with Kurt. His best friend Sam was by his side. He was living this amazing life. 

So why did he feel so broken.

Why did he feel like bugs were crawling underneath his skin? His stomach doing twists and turns while his mind raced. His heart would begin to pound sometimes to the point where he couldn’t breathe. But he was utterly fine.

Kurt would look at him and ask him if he was okay. But the words I’m fine were permanently etched into his lips. His throat couldn’t form any other sentence. Other emotions didn’t exist. But it was just completely and utterly okay. Blaine was rotting from inside out. But he couldn’t pinpoint why. He didn’t understand that sometimes feelings shouldn’t be bottled up. That people weren’t meant to have permanent smiles etched into their faces. Anxiety shouldn’t always be there as a constant state of subconscious. His thoughts shouldn’t be so clouded with sadness. 

His skin was crawling and he was fine.

The first time Blaine thought about suicide, he scared himself.

He was fourteen and he stared too long at his pain medication for his cracked ribs and broken arm. Not understanding why he wanted to do it, but believing it would result in his freedom. He was just so numb sometimes and it was peaceful. He didn’t know why but he was crying.

The thought about his mom finding him made him shut the medicine cabinet.

Sometimes they would just appear.

Some days the sadness would drain him and he would drift to which knives were the sharpest in the kitchen. How his blood would look on the bathroom floor. But then other days Kurt was there and his mind would clear like the sky opening up and the color would bleed back into his world. Kurt was his safe space. He didn’t know it but he was. Blaine once told him that he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost him.

Blaine found out. 

It became dark for a while. All Blaine really wants to remember is that he never wanted to go back to that place. 

That place of the clock reading three a.m. and he’s shaking on the bathroom floor and he can’t breathe but he’s also breathing way too fast, like he was drowning over and over again. He closes his eyes but all he sees is his mistakes. The thoughts of being worthless and pathetic would shake him to his core. 

But somehow he pulled himself off the bathroom floor.

Only to be back there a couple nights later.

Sam pulled him back again.

Him and Kurt set themselves right.

Sometimes it was rocky.

And Blaine would try not to put himself on the bathroom floor.

He opened up to Kurt though. He had insecurities and flaws that he let Kurt see. They weren't pretty but Kurt stayed with him and Blaine realized that he didn’t have to be perfect all the time.

So finally he was happy.

But it wasn’t enough.

It was a bad day.

The grey clouds had been building for a few weeks.

But today, it finally rained. 

There were too many things to do. One too many projects. His dance steps had to be perfect or he would be eaten alive by his group. His mother had called earlier. He was forced to talk to his father. He could hear how much of a disappoint he was in their voices. Anxiety was making his skin prickle and his throat swell up.

Blaine was on the bathroom floor. He didn't remember walking home.

The shaking hadn't started yet and he could still breathe, but it was fast. His eyes were clouding up with tears. Why couldn’t he just not fuck up for once?

It was like falling down the rabbit hole. 

“Blaine, what are you doing?” 

A question spoken with a slight tremble on the last word.

His mind was frighteningly clear then. In his right hand was a small razor blade. He was just holding it gently. His face was wet, breathing so fast. Bathroom floor was cold. He   
didn't know how long he had been sitting there.

“Nothing.”

A lie clogging his throat. A whisper even he couldn't believe.

Kurt knelt down in front of him.

“Honey, give me the razor blade.”

He handed it over. It was so silent then.

Kurt’s eyes were so clear, a sign he was holding back tears.

He set the razor blade on the counter. 

“I’ll take care of the mess later.”

Blaine slowly began to realize that parts of his razor surrounded him.

“I’m sorry I-“

“Shhh. It’s okay.”

Kurt was holding him. Blaine buried his face in Kurt’s neck. 

“Can you stand up?” 

He slowly nodded.

They walked quietly to their bedroom. Kurt never let go of him. They laid on the bed, tangling themselves together.

“You’re still breathing fast, honey. Concentrate on matching my breathing okay.” Deep breaths in and out had never been so difficult before. It was so crushing, just trying to perform a simple task. 

Kurt just kept holding on. Making sure Blaine knew that he was there and that he was real.

Eventually they would talk.

And Blaine would begin to see a therapist. 

And life would feel amazing once again.

But for right now Kurt was there, making sure Blaine wasn't going to fall apart.

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic holds a special place in my heart. I was so down one day and wrote this. I hope you enjoyed my foray into angst. Please leave a comment and a kudos. 
> 
> ~with love, a flying monkey


End file.
